


Interceptions

by muggles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Creepy Fluff, Fluff, Love Letters, Love/Hate, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6840163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muggles/pseuds/muggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stressed-out Hux has been going through all of the messages the First Order has intercepted from the Resistance personally. When he finds the charming holovids/love letters/sexts that Poe has been sending to his sweetie, he starts getting a little obsessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interceptions

Hux was tired.

Things had, to put it lightly, not been going well for the First Order. With FN-2187’s dramatic defection calling the effectiveness of the stormtrooper training program into question, the destruction of Starkiller base killing any strategic momentum the First Order had built, and the humiliating defeat of the supposedly all-powerful Kylo Ren at the hands of a common scavenger shaking any of their followers’ remaining confidence, Hux was fighting hard to keep the First Order in some semblance of power. Lately, that meant he had taken to doing every possible task himself, using the recent failures as evidence that he was the only one who could accomplish anything correctly. Though there hadn’t been any incidents lately, the stress was also, admittedly, starting to wear him thin.

Hux poured himself a drink as he sat at his desk, unfastening his collar and closing his eyes for one blissful moment. He listened as the day’s intercepted Resistance holovids began to play on the screen, leaning his elbow against the desk and resting his brow in his hand, eyes still closed. The holovids they’d seized so far had been fairly innocuous, but he still didn’t trust anyone but him to go through the footage, in case there were some sort of hidden message. He didn’t notice when the words started blending together, morphing in his subconscious, as he drifted to sleep.

***  
“Hey, babe.”

Hux jerked awake, confused, and looked around the room for the source of the voice, before realizing it was just another one of the holovids. He focused on the screen through bleary eyes as he regained full consciousness—something about this one seemed familiar.

“I’m just waiting here for my mission orders, and started thinking about you.” The figure appeared to be sitting inside a Resistance X-wing, speaking directly to the holorecorder, which gave the effect that he was speaking directly to Hux. Or, that he was speaking directly to the intended recipient of the holovid, that is. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Hux took a sip of his drink as he stared at the man. Suddenly, it clicked—the pilot with the droid that Ren had interrogated. The one that had broken FN-2187 out of the barracks, stolen a TIE fighter, and caused all that damage in the launch bay. There had even been a rumor that that same pilot had launched the final shots that destroyed the Starkiller. Hux had always suspected that last story of being Resistance propaganda—was it really possible that one pilot had accomplished all that?—but he still felt an uncomfortable tightening in his throat at the sight of him. What was his name again—Dameron?

“I wish you could see this view,” said the pilot, running his fingers through his hair. “Really, I just wish you were here with me. Or I was there with you. ‘Cause I’m going crazy without your… well, they told me the First Order might be intercepting these, so that’s probably all I should say. But you know what I mean.” The man winked at the holorecorder, and Hux drew back instinctively, forgetting for a moment that the wink wasn’t actually directed at him.

“Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.” The pilot made a kissing motion towards the holorecorder, and the message ended.

Hux exhaled, blinked, and leaned over to speak into his comm. “Lieutenant, if we intercept any more messages with the originating data code 075.6433, send them directly to me as soon as they arrive. I think this pilot may be sending ciphered messages back to the Resistance base, but it requires further analysis.”

He sat back in his chair and took another sip as he stared at the blank screen for a moment, tapping his glass with his finger. Looking around the room to verify he was still alone, Hux reached forward to press a button on the holoplayer.

“Hey, babe.”

***  
After the first one, the pilot’s messages began arriving fairly consistently. For whatever reason, it seemed the Resistance had had him arrive at his location without, apparently, giving him any details on what he was supposed to do or when it was going to happen. Hux dutifully continued watching the missives though, on the off chance that there was some valuable hidden information in one of them. He could recognize the boredom and loneliness in the pilot’s voice, and though his openness sometimes made Hux slightly uncomfortable, it was also refreshing. Honesty was not a common feature among the First Order, and most of the people with whom Hux regularly interacted were deliberately promoting their own agendas.

“I guess I never really knew her—I mean, I knew her, of course I knew her—but she died when I was eight and wasn’t around a lot when I was growing up. Did I ever tell you she flew with General Organa? She always had the best stories.” The pilot stared off into the distance as he took a sip from a bottle. Hux mirrored him and took a sip of his own drink.

“Have you ever been to Yavin 4? I’d love to take you there someday, babe, it’s—it’s really beautiful.”

Hux added a note to the growing list of things and names and places he kept on his datapad to look up later: Yavin 4. Hux hadn’t ever been there, in fact.

***  
Hux settled in at his desk and pulled up the latest message from the pilot, which had just been transferred to him. In this holovid, the pilot was visibly glistening with sweat, and looked significantly more disheveled than normal. Hux noted major facial hair growth since the last message.

“Aagggghh,” moaned the pilot. “It’s hot. Ohh, it’s so hot. I hate this. The ship’s cooling mechanism broke last night, and BB-8’s still working on repairing it, but we don’t have the part we need.” Hux could hear the irritating droid beeping in the background, as the pilot slumped dramatically in his seat to show his displeasure.

“Plus there’s a sandstorm outside so I can’t leave, and I can’t even keep the canopy open or the sand gets everywhere. General, if you’re listening to this…”

Hux’s breath hitched, and he panicked, wondering how the pilot knew he was listening. 

“…send me some beebleberry ice cream, okay? I could really use it. I might die without it, honestly.” After another moment’s confusion, Hux cursed his foolishness—the pilot was obviously referring to General Organa. He paused and added “beebleberry ice cream” to his list.

In the holovid, the pilot stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with each overly dramatic, faux-labored breath.

“Actually, this is ridiculous. General, if you’re still watching—look away. This is for my pumpkin.” The pilot reached an arm back and started yanking his shirt off.

Hux dove towards the screen in alarm and stopped the holovid, freezing the pilot with his shirt halfway over his head. Hux’s eyes darted around the room, though he knew he was alone, and in this moment, awkwardly splayed out across his desk, Hux wondered if perhaps he’d been watching too many of these holovids. If they really were just personal communications, after all, was he betraying some unspoken gentlemen’s agreement between the factions by viewing them? Was the Resistance really going through the First Order’s messages in similar detail?

Then again… Hux considered the possibility that, out of all the possible messages being transmitted by his enemies, a message in which the figure was not wearing a shirt was probably the most likely to be dismissed by reviewers as obviously and embarrassingly personal—thus making it the perfect vehicle for actually sending a covert message. Hux nodded, pleased that he couldn’t be fooled so easily. He leaned over to his comm.

“Lieutenant, cancel my appointments for the day. I’m feeling... ill. NO, no medcenter required, I just need rest. You remember how to do the troop divisions, right? Yes, that will be all, thank you.”

Hux took off his jacket and started the holovid over from the beginning. He could tell this message was going to require more thorough examination.

***  
Hux toweled off his hair and walked back to his desk. As he had been thinking about the holovid in the shower, he had suddenly remembered an image, and had moved back quickly to check his hunch. He forwarded the holovid to the spot he remembered, paused it, and enhanced the image as he leaned forward to examine the screen. He could just barely make it out, but his memory had served him correctly: two light sources reflected off the console’s shiny surface just behind the pilot’s head. Two suns... at that angle... at this time in the cycle... He now knew exactly where the pilot was stationed, and more importantly, how dangerously close he was to where the planned construction of the new Starkiller base would be taking place. If this pilot really were as important as his accomplishments suggested, killing him could strike a major blow to the Resistance, maybe even weakening them enough to destroy them.

He pressed his comm button immediately, without thinking.

“Lieutenant, I… I’ve. I’ve…” Hux’s usual bravado faded as he stuttered uncharacteristically, the multiplicity of his options coming into view. In the time he’d spent watching the holovids, he had unintentionally formed what seemed like an emotional bond with this man, this enemy of the First Order—but he knew it wasn’t real, that his mind was just playing tricks on him. “Get it together, Hux,” he thought to himself, with a furrowed brow.

Finally, he was thinking clearly, calmly, and rationally enough to form a complete sentence. He stammered it out quickly before he could change his mind.

“Lieutenant, secure a ship immediately. Set a course for Tatooine.”

***  
Poe marched across the sand behind BB-8, who was rolling forward with authority. BB-8 had registered the drop site as just a few meters beyond the dune, and luckily the sandstorms had died down enough for them to recover what must be a Resistance supply package. BB-8 stopped next to a container as Poe reached down to pick it up. He held it up to his ear and shook it, hearing something jumbling around inside. Poe opened the package and discovered a small piece of metal at the top, which he recognized as a gauge for the ship’s cooling mechanism.

“Hey hey, looks like we’ll be sleeping cool tonight, buddy!” said Poe, as he patted BB-8’s dome and put the piece into one of BB-8’s holding slots. He returned to the package and noticed there was a second compartment of the container, which appeared to be freeze-packed. He opened it, but it took him a moment to realize what was inside.

“Beebleberry ice cream?” said Poe, ruffling his hair. “Huh. I guess the General liked what she saw.”

BB-8 beeped.

“A message from the Resistance?” said Poe, as he unwrapped one of the ice creams and sat down on the sand. “Are they finally giving us our orders, or are they just telling me not to eat this all at once?”

BB-8 leaned back and set up his holoprojector. A tiny hologram of General Organa appeared on the sand.

“Poe, there’s been a malfunction with our communication and we’ve been receiving transmissions of your vitals, but not any of your reports or messages. We are postponing the mission until we can fix the issue—it’s too dangerous if we can’t hear from you. We did receive readings that there was some sort of damage to your ship, but we can’t tell how serious it is, so we are sending a rescue party to recover you and the droid.”

Poe stared at BB-8, confused, licking his fingers.

“But… if they haven’t been getting my messages… then…” Poe looked down at his ice cream. “Then who sent me this?”

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the [TFA Kink Meme](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=8330361#cmt8330361)!
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://elfauno.tumblr.com)!


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